


Bethany Sawyer

by RandomWordsAndStormyDays



Series: Random's Fallout OCs [7]
Category: Fallout 4
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-21 05:10:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21069395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomWordsAndStormyDays/pseuds/RandomWordsAndStormyDays
Summary: This is a collection of the one-shots and ficlets that I've written for my OC Bethany.





	Bethany Sawyer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bethany is struggling to make enough caps to support her brother's chem habit. What happens when Maccready gets in the way of her payday?

Bethany would rather be almost anywhere else besides where she is, which is saying a lot when you’ve spent 22 years of your life in the Commonwealth. The dilapidated roof of the Westing Estates building is caving in on itself and barely has enough cover for her to feel safe. However, it’s the only building with enough height to give her a good vantage point above her targets. A vantage point that also allows her to take in an aerial view of the Commonwealth, one she would have to admit is lovely. The Commonwealth always looks better to her from up high.

Still, the blistering cold and harsh breeze make her regret her current career choice. Being a mercenary brings in good money, but it’s days like today that make her miss working in Daisy’s shop. A smile teases at her lips as she thinks about the ghoul woman. Too kind for her own good, but would easily put anyone in the ground if they threatened her friends or family. Her kindness is likely the only reason that Bethany and her brother Elija are alive.

She buries her nose into the soft fabric of her scarf as she thinks about Daisy, and how she came to work for her.

_ The doors to Goodneighbor open easily, more than she would have expected considering the town’s reputation. Even the guards on the gate welcome her as she enters. Nonetheless she shivers as the door closes behind her, the sound louder than she would have liked. _

_ People stare at her as she walks by, half of them look friendly, the other half look murderous. If she wasn’t here looking for her brother she would have turned around as soon as the door slammed shut. This isn’t the place for her. _

_ As she walks she tries her best to look tough, just another drifter stopping by Goodneighbor for a drink, or a place to sleep. She’s almost to the alley by the State House when someone grabs her arm and jerks her back. _

_ “Where do you think you’re going, girly?” _

_ The man who asks the question is handsome, but the ferocity in his voice and the annoyance on his face has her more scared than appreciative. She has to force her fear down, burying it. She prefers to face her enemies from the other side of a scope. With a force she’s surprised she can muster she rips her arm out of his grasp and lifts her head to stare him in the eye. She prays that her voice doesn’t tremble when she responds, “I’m going wherever the hell I want to go. You got a fucking problem with that?” _

_ It’s clear to her that the man wasn’t expecting that response and he steps back to cross his arms. _

_ “Listen, you come in here you’re gonna need insurance. You don’t get some, then accidents might start happening, big, bloody accidents.” _

_ Bethany rolls her eyes, trying to play the part of an inconvenienced drifter instead of the scared settler she is. “I don’t intend to give you a single cap. So, unless you’re going to rob me- which I don’t fucking recommed, step aside.” _

_ Before the man can respond a voice rings out from behind him. “Finn, you better not be terrorizing that girl. If you keep scaring away all my customers I’ll have your ass.” _

_ Red blooms across his cheeks and suddenly the man, Finn, looks sheepish and shy. “Aw, Daisy, c’mon, I’m not giving her a hard time at all,” he looks back at Bethany as a ghoul woman appears, she assumes it’s Daisy, “we were just having a friendly conversation, weren’t we?” _

_ The sudden change in his demeanor and conversation leaves her a little rattled and she struggles to respond. “What? I mean, no, no that’s not what was happening,” she makes eye contact with Daisy, “he’s trying to threaten me for caps.” _

_ Daisy’s hand meets the back of Finn’s head with an audible thwap. “Finn, you no good trouble maker, how many times have I told you not to bother the nice people that come into this town. You run on home before I tell that mama of yours what you’ve been doing.” _

_ Finn bows his head down and mutters a, “yes ma’am” before turning and heading into the town and out of Bethany’s view. She watches him go, and feels her heart rate calm as soon as he disappears entirely. _

_ “Are you alright?” _

_ She turns towards Daisy with a smile. “I’m alright, I appreciate the help.” _

_ The woman smiles back at her and gestures for Bethany to follow. “Not a problem. That rotten Finn would rather hound poor visitors for their caps than earn his own.” As she speaks she leads Bethany towards a store labeled ‘Daisy’s discounts’. “I’m Daisy by the way, you are?” _

_ “Mine name’s Bethany.” _

_ “Well, Bethany, what can Goodneighbor do for you?” _

_ As Daisy takes her spot behind the counter, Bethany begins to look around taking in the shop and all it has to offer. “I’m here looking for my brother. He’s got a pretty bad chem habit.” Instead of looking at the shop keeper she trains her eye on the line of clothing she has displayed behind her. “He usually goes off on a binge for a few days and then stumbles home where I shove some addictol into him.” Finally she makes eye contact. “But he hasn’t been home in a week so I’m checking out all his hangouts.” _

_ Daisy looks as concerned as one can without eyebrows. “What’s his name, what does he look like?” _

_ “His name is Elija. Same brown hair, but half his head is shaved. Maybe this tall,” she raises her hand about half a foot above her head, “and last I saw he was wearing a black jacket and a dark green shirt.” _

_ “You might be in luck, I think I saw a man fitting that description at the Third Rail just a few hours ago.” _

_ “Really?” Bethany almost hates the hope she can detect in her own voice. _

_ “Yes, I do believe so, but before you go, I have a question.” _

_ “Anything, you helped me out with that Finn guy and I really can’t thank you enough.” _

_ “Addictol isn’t cheap. How are you making the money for that?” _

_ Red tinges Bethany’s cheeks, it’s embarrassing that this stranger can tell that she’s struggling. “I had to sell off a lot of our things. Elija’s usually too drugged up to notice,” her voice falls as she speaks, her shame clear, and her eyes dart away to stare at the floor, “sometimes I have to steal food from the neighboring farms because all my caps go towards keeping my brother alive.” _

_ “What if I gave you a job?” _

_ She looks up sharply, expecting a joke or a jeer, instead she’s greeted by warm openness and genuine kindness. “I can’t ask that of you, you’ve already done so much.” _

_ “Darlin’, you’re not asking, I’m offering. You’re too young to have to bare all this responsibility by yourself.” Bethany can feel tears working their way up behind her eyes and she lifts her hand to wipe at her cheek before they can fall. _

_ “I’ll take whatever job you’re willing to give me.” _

_ So Daisy gives. Over the next couple of months Bethany spends her time stocking shelves, bartering with customers, and taking care of her brother. However, it’s still not enough. While her and her brother eat, it’s not often, and while she keeps a steady supply of addictol, she can’t afford purified water. _

_ The one thing she has no trouble getting is ammo. KL-EO and Daisy have both taken a shine to her, and she pretends not to notice that she pays half for her .308s now than when she first got to Goodneighbor. Which means when she’s not working, she’s up on the roof of the hotel, taking out Gunners, raiders, and the occasional Brotherhood patrol. Most of the time the bodies have been looted by the time she gets to them, but sometimes they’re untouched and she keeps what she needs, and sells what she doesn’t. _

_ It’s one of the days when she’s wasting time on the roof when a woman approaches her. _

_ She’s just put down three raiders and is scanning for any stragglers when the door behind her opens up. In one quick move she rolls up onto her knees and raises her gun to aim at the stranger. Suspicion darts through her and her eyes narrow in distrust. _

_ The woman raises her hands up, palms out, and Bethany relaxes a fraction. She doesn’t lower her gun, but she does raise her head to look at the intruder without the assistance of her scope. She looks like a raider, if a raider had access to plenty of caps and could afford real clothes, but doesn’t appear threatening. However, a closer look has fear tingling at the base of Bethany’s spine, an unspoken aura of danger emanates from the stranger. Her hand stays on her weapon, ready to fire if she even begins to suspect danger. “What do you want?” _

_ From underneath the woman’s hooded coat Bethany can see her break out into a terrifying grin. “I’d like to offer you a job. 150 caps now. 100 more when the job is finished.” _

_ Bethany lowers the gun and squints her eyes suspiciously. She takes only a second to think about her dwindling supply of caps, and the pathetical standard of living she’s experiencing before she makes her decision. “I’m listening.” _

_ Maybe, if business with Daisy was good she wouldn’t even consider it, but if this pays off… maybe she can try out this line of work. _

Now, months later, as she curls and uncurls her fingers against the stiffness that the cold is causing, she wonders where she would be if she hadn’t taken the job, starting a career of mercenary work. Probably still working for Daisy, struggling to get by.

She tries not to think about the disappointment on Daisy’s face when she quit the shop or the fear she saw reflected there when she finally admitted to her new line of work. Still, never once has she ever seen judgement, only concern and a willingness to help.

But she’s desperate now, even more than she had been when that woman had first approached her.. The mercenary work has slowed down considerably, new players have moved into the area around Goodneighbor, and people with caps to spend are more likely to ask the Gunners than a random merc. Plus, there’s an ex-Gunner names Maccready who’s moved into her territory. His presence alone has more than halved her hiring rate, with his prior employment history people overlook her completely. She’s down to a handful of caps, ammo, and one more addictol. She’ll probably have to use that one this week, and then she’s out. The payout for this is 500 caps, and that will keep her going for a few weeks, maybe more if she rations right.

Her thoughts are interrupted by movement coming in from the left side of her vision. Bethany raises her rifle and peers through the scope. Quickly she identifies two of the men marching her way as Winlock and Barnes. The other three men are guards, strategically placed around her two targets for protection. Irritation strikes her as she takes in the view of Barnes’ power armor, her last recon gathered that his armor was down for modifications. That’s going to make this a little harder than she was prepared for.

When she first took this job she had concerns, the man who hired her, Henry, seemed sketchy, but all her reservations fell away when he told her the price: 500 caps to take out two guys. Her normal asking price is 125 caps a mark, his offer was 200 caps higher than what she would have asked for. It was an offer she couldn’t refuse, not if she wanted to keep eating.

He conveniently left out that her targets were Gunners, high ranking ones at that, and that they would have guards. She discovered all this during the week where she scouted them out, waiting for them to come down from their lifted highway.

Winlock has the most powerful weapon, as the guards seem to only have basic pistols and rifles, so she lines up her sights on Winlock, counting down the seconds until he’s close enough for her to take him out. Her finger hovers over the trigger, and just as she exhales and prepares to squeeze, fire fills her line of sight.

The fusion cell on Barnes’ power armor just exploded.

Screams tear from the men below her as they’re covered in molten fusion core fluid and blasted back by the force of the explosion. Before she can even begin to fire at the suffering survivors a steady repetition of shots rings out, killing the rest of them. Silence fills the air as she waits for the other sniper to reveal their position, and after what has to be nearly ten minutes, a lone figure appears from a group of buildings a decent distance away.

A normal person would be impressed. The distance this man had to fire from was nearly half a mile, and he hit a target smaller than a fist. But she’s not a normal person, she’s a mercenary who might have just been robbed of 500 caps. So, she’s not impressed, she’s pissed.

Without another thought she rolls over to the staircase and makes her way quickly down to the first floor. The mysterious shooter is still looting when she gets outside. When she’s close enough she raises her pistol and calls out, “who the hell are you?”

When the figure turns around he’s got his own gun trained on her. “None of your business. This loot is mine.”

“Fuck the loot, you stole my kills.”

The man scoffs, “your kills? Sorry to ruin your fun or whatever but I was hired to take out these guys.”

“So was I!”

At that the man’s eyebrows pinch together. “Who hired you?”

It’s her turn to scoff. “No merc in their right mind would rat out their employer.” If she can get to the man that hired her quickly, maybe she can pass these kills off as hers before this guy gets back to the person who hired him.

There’s an annoyed sigh from the other merc, who then proceeds to do just what she refused to. “Was he a taller guy? Scar across the left part of his neck? Carried a modded ripper? Goes by the name Henry?”

“How did you know that?”

The man rolls his eyes. “Because it’s the same guy who hired me.”

That’s… not good. If he was hired by the same guy, there’s no way for her to pass off this as her handiwork. She’d just shoot him and walk away, but he’s just as good, probably better, with a weapon than her, and that plan might wind up with her dead.

“Listen, I’m sorry but I got to them first, you can have the rest of the loot, but those caps are mine.” Her finger twitches on the trigger, but she can’t find it in herself to pull it.

“Wait, please,” she drops her gun into its holster, “can’t we work something else out? I really need those caps.”

The man lowers his gun, but doesn’t put it away. “I can’t do that. I need the money.”

“There’s gotta be something I can do, something I can offer to make you change your mind.”

While not above begging, Bethany knows that the offer she’s placed on the table is dangerous. The Commonwealth is full of vile and nasty people. Up until now she’s never had to sleep her way into a meal or a bed, but 500 caps is a lot, and without that payout she’s in trouble. There’s nothing lined up for her any time soon, and with that new mercenary Maccready working out of the Third Rail her territory is getting smaller and smaller. Her stomach rolls with disgust as she pictures the things that this man might ask of her, but she stands her ground.

Both lucky and not for her, he shakes his head. “I don’t want anything from you. I need these caps.”

He goes to turn away and she steps forward, in a flash the gun is pointed right at her head again. She takes a step back and he lowers his aim. “Please, I need the money for my brother. Without it, he could die. I can’t afford how much it costs to keep him alive.”

Sympathy flashes in the man’s eyes, but he doesn’t falter. “I’m sorry, but I need these for my son.”

“Just give me 200 caps, you can have the rest plus any loot here.”

“100, no room for bargaining.”

“125, please.”

There’s a moment of hesitation and she wonders if maybe she pushed too far. 100 is better than nothing, and if he tells her that she doesn’t get anything- relief washes over her when he speaks. “Fine. 125 caps,” he looks at the watch wrapped around his wrist, “stay here. I’ll meet you back here in an hour.”

“No, I’m coming with you. I’m not going to let you run off with those caps.”

“Listen, if the guy that hired us sees us both he’s going to know that we know. He’s more likely to shoot us both.”

He isn’t wrong. It’s not a good look to book more than one hit on the same person, and if you do most people inform all parties that they’re not alone in their hunt. More than once people have wound up dead because they screwed a merc out of caps they thought they deserved. His logic is sound, but it makes her nervous. He must sense her unease.

“Listen, if I’m not back here in an hour you can come look for me. My name is Maccready and I work out of the Third Rail in Goodneighbor. If I’m not there just talk to Daisy, she’ll know where I am.”

Any argument she may have had dies on her tongue. “Wait, you’re Maccready?” He nods and she feels anger tingling under her skin. “You’re the fuck that’s been stealing my jobs,” she raises her hand to point at him, “Goodneigbor was my spot, I left for a week to hunt down some fucking Super Mutants for a client and I come back and you’ve moved right in. You’re the reason I can’t afford to keep my brother alive in the first place.”

He goes to speak, but she interrupts him, throwing out her arm in annoyance, waving it wildly. “And then Daisy told me I should just let it go and come back to work for her, but that wasn’t working and I sure as hell couldn’t ask her for more than she was already paying me.”

Finally Maccready gets in a word, and before long the two are arguing back and forth, increasingly getting more and more hostile towards each other. In the end, it’s Maccready who solves their problems.

“At this point we might as well kill the guy, split everything he owns, and go our separate ways.”

Bethany’s next comment, about where Maccready could shove his opinion, dies, as the actual context of his statement makes its way into her mind. “That’s not a bad idea.”

“What?”

“We’ll just kill him,” a smile works its way across her face, “he’s an asshole, clearly has caps to spare, and did nothing but waste our time.”

Maccready looks thoughtful, and she lets him work through the idea on his own. Finally, he meets her eye. “Alright, I’ll go in and collect the 500 caps from him for the hit. He wants me to meet him at Forest Grove Marsh, and there’s plenty of sniper spots around. How good are you with that?” He points to her rifle.

“I’d say that, until you came along, I was arguably the best around.”

“Fine. You set up on one of the buildings, and as soon as I’ve got the money you take him out. Deal?”

“Deal.”

From there they take off towards Forest Grove. It’s not too far of a trip, but the silence is awkward, tensions between the two are still there and Bethany doesn’t know how to approach Maccready, isn’t sure if she wants to. Suddenly, he asks about her brother.

It’s not often that she talks about him. Bethany doesn’t have many friends, and Daisy is really the only person who knows the full story. About her brother, about what her sister’s death did to him. Not to mention, she doesn’t really know Maccready, they have a temporary partnership to take out a mutual irritation, but that doesn’t make them acquaintances, certainly doesn’t make them friends. So she plays it safe, merely says that she has to spend copious amounts of money every week to keep him supplied with medicine for a problem he has.

Maccready doesn’t respond at first, and she worries that he can sense that she’s holding back. Instead of questioning her or pushing for more information he goes quiet. Then, “my son is sick, really sick, and I pay some friends back home to watch over him while I look for a cure.”

“That’s why you need the money,” a head nod is his response, “how bad is it?”

Sadness works its way into Bethany’s heart as Maccready describes the effects of the disease, the blue boils, the cough, the boy’s need to stay in bed for days at a time. It’s easy to see how his son’s health is affecting Maccready, and it’s also easy to see why he’s so desperate for caps. She realizes suddenly that he hasn’t mentioned a wife, or at least his son’s mother. Even though she wants to ask, she doesn’t want to push, she wants to give him the same respect that he gave her. He offers the information of his own free will.

“I’m just glad that Lucy isn’t around to see this. If she saw how badly Duncan is suffering it would have just broken her heart.”

“Is Lucy his mother?”

“Yeah, she’s-,” he stumbles over the words, “was my wife.”

That’s the only thing he says, he offers no clarification to his statement and she doesn’t ask. The two are silent until Forest Grove Marsh appears on the horizon. They part ways, both of them know the plan, and it’s too dangerous to move together when they’re this close to their employer.

Through her scope Bethany watches Maccready approach Henry, she can’t hear their words but she can see the bag of caps. Her finger twitches and she tries to relax, she’s never protected someone with her sniper, only ever taken out targets. All she wants is to get out of this without anyone getting hurt. Anticipation curls like a snake ready to strike, and she has to focus, she can’t mess this up.

Her breathing evens out as Henry hands Maccready the caps, he shakes the bag three times - her cue. Just as she pulls the trigger two figures step out from behind her mark, weapons drawn and aimed at Maccready. There isn’t even a moment for her to verify that her bullet struck before she shifts, rotating her rifle to aim at the two intruders. She drops one and only then does she notice that the other is on the ground, bleeding out from his neck.

Then her sights settle on Maccready, lying on the ground, unmoving.

Lightning fast she’s on her feet and sprinting out of the building. As she approached she sees that Maccready is now on his back, hands pressed tightly against his torso, where she can see the red of his blood seeping between his fingers.

“Holy shit.” Bethany mutters the curse as she slides down onto her knees beside him. “Please tell me you have a stimpack.”

A slight shake of his head and her heart drops. “Don’t need them, I’m never close to my targets.”

Her thoughts are racing a mile and minute. She needs to find a stimpack. She doesn’t want him to die. Sure, if he dies then she gets all the caps for herself, gets the loot, gets anything she can get her hands on. But the flash of a faceless child runs through her mind, one with the mercenary’s crooked nose and sharp tongue. She doesn’t want to be the reason that Duncan loses his father.

“Stay here. I’m going to find something.”

“Not going any fucking- damn it- darn it, ugh.”

Funny, that he would stop a curse from escaping even as he lies bleeding out on the ground. With that thought she turns away from him and looks to the three bodies around him. The first two men have nothing but a few bullets and some purified water. She pockets it all but continues her search. The third man, one of the guards that came in after, has med-x, but no stimpack.

Panic begins to wash over her and she risks a glance back at Maccready, his eyes are closed but his chest continues to move up and down, it calms her, but only a bit. “Stay with me, keep talking, you need to stay awake.” The only thing that keeps her from losing it is all the practice she has with her brother - turns out being a chem addict leads to a lot of near-fatal injuries.

She sees his eyes flutter open, a positive sign that he’s still with her, and then she’s off towards the buildings, testing her luck. Maccready talks loud enough that she can still hear him as she tears through the closest building.

“Everything’s cold, ‘m losing too much bloo… blood.” His words slur together and she picks up her pace. By the time she finds a stimpack, shoved underneath the counter in the kitchen, he’s gone silent again.

When she exits the house her heart lodges itself in her throat, he’s no longer putting pressure on his wound, and he looks much too pale. She dashes over to him, and relief fills her when she sees his eyes open, but not quite aware.

“I’ve got a stim, I’m gonna cut off your shirt and see if the bullet is still in there.” He nods weakly. “I have some med-x, do you want a dose?” Another nod. She injects the medicine quickly, a third of the vial is all she dares use, and then the work begins. By the time she’s removed the bullet, cleaned the wound, and prepared the stimpack Maccready is delirious, both from the drug and his loss of blood.

He repeats a location over and over, eyes wide and concerned. “Med-tek.”

“What’s at Med-Tek, Maccready, tell me?”

He shuffles, like he might try to stand, and she holds him down. “Duncan. Gotta save Duncan. Med-tek.” Duncan, his son?

As soon as he’s still enough she jabs the needle into his stomach, just below the wound, and prays that she got to it fast enough.

She continues to talk to him, trying to keep him awake, starts to ask questions hoping that will keep him from drifting off. “What’s at Med-tek that will help Duncan?”

“The cure. Duncan’s cure. Prevent. Gotta- gotta get it to Daisy.”

Her eyes widen at his statement. He knows where the cure for his son is? Before she can ask any questions he pulls at her arm. “Please, if I- if I don’t,” a wince of pain, “you have to get the cure.”

“I don’t underst-” He pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket and shoves it into her hands, covering it in blood.

“You have to save my son.”

She responds but he doesn’t answer, she tries to wake him but his eyes remain closed. His breathing continues but he no longer responds to her voice, or the insistent shaking of his shoulders. Bethany looks up, out and across the bloody and destroyed street. Where was help when you needed it?

///

Maccready wakes slowly, like his mind wants to stay asleep, cling to unconsciousness, but his body won’t let it. There’s a throbbing in his head, the kind that he gets when he uses chems, but he has no recollection of partaking. When he opens his eyes he recognizes the State House.

“Maccready?”

His head snaps towards the voice. “Bethany?” Instead of the girl he’s expecting, Daisy and Dr. Amari enter the room. “What happened?”

The doctor speaks. “A young woman brought you in, said you two worked on a hit together and you got hurt,” she gestures to his torso which is wrapped in bandages, “it was touch and go for a while, but you’ll live.”

“Thanks, doc.” She gives him a look that shows how little she cares and then leaves. He focuses his attention on Daisy. She looks mad.

His head pounds as she raises her voice at him. “Robert Joseph Maccready, how many times do I have to tell you to be careful? If something were to happen to you, who would take care of Duncan?” She lowers her voice, but it doesn’t quell the pain shooting through his head. “And what the hell were you thinking bringing that girl Bethany along with you? I’ve been trying to get her out of the merc life for months now and then she comes running into town with you unconscious and dying?”

Maccready cringes at her tone and loudness, but he knows he deserves at least part of her chastising. “It’s a long story, Dais, I’m surprised Bethany didn’t tell you.”

“She left as soon as Dr. Amari showed up, said she had to go get something and took off without another word. That was three days ago.” Maccready racks his brain for what Bethany could have gone for, nothing comes to mind except for his caps. Before he can ask about it Daisy tosses a bag at him. “She said these were yours, said she took her portion and left you the rest.”

He can’t believe she didn’t take them all, hell he can’t believe she tried to save his life, dragged him all the way to Goodneighbor, risked her life for him. He can’t believe that she’s real.

He hopes that she’s okay.

“You should rest up. You lost a lot of blood,” she smiles at him, a little sadly, a little worriedly, and he wonders how close to dying he actually was, “I’ll yell at you more later.”

He’s out before the door shuts the whole way.

When he wakes again he’s not alone. Bethany is in the couch across from his bed, and if his memory of what she looked like is accurate, she’s got more than a dozen new scratches across her face and arms, and she’s much too pale. “Bethany?”

She stirs, but doesn’t wake. Maccready sits up and rolls out of bed. The floor is cold on his feet and he shivers, he’s barefoot and shirtless, and he begins to shake. As he’s pulling on the long sleeve shirt laid out next to the bed the door opens and Daisy enters. She seems surprised to see him on his feet, but makes no comment.

“When did she get back?” He tilts his head towards Bethany as he pulls on his shoes.

Daisy drops a basket of supplies on the dresser and pulls out a bag of radaway. “A few hours ago, came back half delirious and pretty shook up.” Her mouth opens, like she intends to speak, but instead she shuffles away from him and begins to prep the radaway. It’s only then that he notices the empty bag hanging above Bethany’s head.

“She run into some ferals?”

“Why don’t you sit down. There’s something I need to tell you.” She sounds serious, and he knows better than to argue. He takes a seat on the bed and rests his hands on his knees.

“Daisy, what’s going on.”

It’s silent until Daisy gets the second dose of radaway into Bethany’s arm. At the movement she wakes. “Wha-huh?”

“Don’t move dear, you’ve been unconscious for a few hours.”

Suddenly, clarity darts across her eyes and she grabs at Daisy’s arm. “Did you get it? Please tell me you got it?” At Daisy’s nod Bethany relaxes and the ghoul pushes her back down onto the couch, Maccready sees her slip a dose of med-x into Bethany’s hip, and then the girl is out.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” The whole situation is confusing to him, he’s not sure why Daisy is being so secretive, he doesn’t know what happened to Bethany, and he really would just like some answers.

Daisy takes a seat next to him, and without any preamble she says something that drops the floor out from under him. “She got me the Prevent for Duncan, it went out on the caravan that left an hour ago.”

White noise sounds in his ears and for a moment he can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything but let her words wash over him and try to make them make sense. When he remembers to breathe again his lungs are burning from lack of oxygen and he still can’t hear anything but a high pitched ringing. After another few seconds he gets his breathing under control and he manages to find his voice. “Why?”

“She didn’t tell us, just handed it to me, said it was for Duncan, and passed out,” she looks between himself and Bethany, “you two are quite the pair, huh?”

Maccready can’t seem to drag his eyes away from the brunette on the couch, he can’t even begin to imagine how he’ll thank her for this. “This was all her.”

Daisy leaves soon after, reminding him to stop by her shop before he heads out again. He doesn’t go, instead he stays, trying to accept that it’s over. That everything he can do for Duncan has been done. That all he has to do now is wait for the letter that says he’s better and go pick him up. A dozen different emotions swell up inside of him and when he lifts his hand he’s surprised to feel tears. Once that happens the floodgates open and he finds himself sobbing, gasping for breath, and trying to will his body to calm down.

Eventually the tears stop, exhaustion washes over him and he rubs at his face. When he looks up from his hands he looks at Bethany, then at the bag of caps on the bed next to him. He doesn’t know how to thank her for saving his son, but the other 375 caps seems like a good start.


End file.
